by K. A. Last
I’m unsure how to reply. He wants to see me? Why? We are too different from each other. I will never be good enough for him. Whether I like it or not, I’m a servant girl. And servant girls don’t mix well with the rich.
“Maybe,” I say. My throat feels thick, and no more words will come out.
I stare out over the cemetery at Roche Manor on the hill behind it, cursing the day my father married that terrible woman. It should be my house. It is my house, but Lady Roche renamed it, and she makes sure I get nothing.
Ashwin comes and stands beside me. “Do you know the people who live in Roche Manor?”
“No,” I say, a little too quickly.
I wish I didn’t know them.
“The house had another name once. I can’t remember what it was, though.” I catch him glancing at me. “I guess it’s not important. I never knew who lived there. Chethan Manor is over the other side of the county. Until my brother died, I didn’t have reason to come out here.”
Ashwin stares at the house. My house. Then continues, “The two girls who live there now, I go to school with them.” Ashwin rocks on his heels. “I don’t like them much. It’s probably a blessing you’ve not met them. Anna and Drew can be ... tedious.”
I frown, wondering why he’s telling me this. Even though I’m secretly happy he doesn’t like my stepsisters, I would never dream of being so up front about it.
“Do you speak this way about everyone?” I ask, facing him.
Ashwin chuckles, and holds my gaze. “Only the people I don’t like.”
I offer him a small smile, then turn and walk under the canopy of the willow tree. I sit on the earth and rest my back against the trunk.
The weeping branches part, and Ashwin steps through. “May I sit with you?”
I draw my knees up and hug them, nodding. “You’ve been here for at least five minutes. Aren’t you afraid someone might catch us together?”
Ashwin sits on the ground near me, and crosses his legs. “Why would I care about that?”
“I thought we established I’m not of your standing.”
He shrugs. “I’d like to get to know you.”
I don’t want to talk about myself. My story isn’t one I like telling. I glance at Ashwin’s hands resting on his knees. “Tell me about your artefact,” I say, in an attempt to take the focus off me.
“I asked you first. The other day. About your pendant.”
Back to me, then.
“Ah, but you were using your artefact to get me to tell you,” I say. “That’s cheating.”
“How so?” He fiddles with the ring on his finger. “Artefacts are there to be used. What good are they if you can’t use them for their intended purpose?”
“Even if that purpose is against any moral standing?”
Ashwin frowns. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”
No. Because families like yours usually get what they want.
He stares at me, but when I don’t say anything he continues, “I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy. I should not have tried to force you to tell me something you didn’t want to.”
“Apology accepted.” I smile, and study his face for a moment. He returns a grin, then runs a hand through his hair, blushing. Is he being sincere? Can I trust him? “If I tell you what my pendant does, will you promise never to tell anyone about it?”
“Yes,” Ashwin says without hesitating.
“How can I be sure?”
He adjusts his position, uncrossing his legs and leaning on one hand. He holds the other one up so I can see his ring. “You already have an idea of what this does.”
“It makes people tell the truth.”
“That it does. So ... you put it on. And then ask me that question again.” He slips the ring off his finger, and holds it out to me.
I take it from him and rest it in my palm. The stone is beautiful. The light dances over the rainbow flecks. Apart from my pendant I don’t own any other jewellery, and I certainly don’t own another artefact. Lady Roche has several, but they’re locked away, unless she’s out and wants to impress someone.
“Put it on,” Ashwin says. “It won’t hurt you.”
“How do I know you haven’t used magic to enchant it?” I ask. “How do I know it isn’t loyal to you?”
Ashwin shrugs. “I’ve never been very good at simple magic, or casting spells. I’m not much of a wizard. I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
The son of the richest family in the county can’t do magic? I find that hard to believe. Surely he’d have the most knowledgeable and well-trained tutors at his disposal.
I open my mouth to say so, but Ashwin speaks first.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’m rich. I should have the best teachers. But ...” He shrugs again. “Some things can’t be taught. Some things ... people aren’t good at.”
I take a breath, and slip the ring onto my thumb because the band is too big for my fingers. I hold my hand out in front of me and study the rainbow stone. Do I really want to tell this boy I hardly know about the one thing that’s most precious to me? He said he wants to get to know me. It would be nice to have someone I can be with, and talk to, without them snapping at me or ordering me to do something.
A friend.
Someone I can share my secrets with.
I fiddle with the ring on my thumb. “I ask you anything, and you answer truthfully?”
“Yes.” Ashwin is smiling when I look at him. “But you have to be touching me.”
He leans forward, and holds out his hand. I hesitate before taking it, but when I do his touch makes my insides flip. His skin is smooth and warm. Ashwin runs his thumb over the back of my hand. I stare into his eyes, and feel a connection I can’t explain.
I worry at my bottom lip. “Do you promise not to tell anyone about my pendant, or what it can do?”
“I promise,” Ashwin replies.
“Are you in the habit of breaking your promises?” I raise my eyebrows.
“No, of course not.”
If Ashwin’s artefact does what he says it does, then I should be able to trust his words. But if he is somehow lying to me, and he has cast a spell to make it only work for him, I might regret telling him anything.
I take a deep breath. “My pendant is connected to the tree—”
“You already told me that.”
“Please don’t interrupt,” I scold. “It’s connected to the willow, and to my mother. They can give me whatever I ask for.”
It’s Ashwin’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Anything? You could ask it for a chocolate cake with cream and cherries, right now, and we could sit here and enjoy it together?”
“We could.” I press my lips together. “But the magic from my pendant ... I can’t use it for personal gain. If I do, it comes with consequences.”
“What do you mean consequences?”
“It’s different each time, depending on what I ask for.”
Ashwin is quiet for a few moments. He lets go of me and sits with his knees up, leaning back on both hands. “How much of this is true?”
“All of it,” I say.
Ashwin glances at my hand. “But you’re wearing the ring. How—”
“I don’t need to be put under a spell to tell you the truth.” I take his artefact from my thumb, and pass it back to him.
He cradles the ring in his palm. “Why does the pendant’s magic have consequences?”
I pick up a fallen leaf from the ground in front of me, and twirl it between my fingers. “My mother told me that the only way magic can be good, is if it’s used for the right reasons. I think she cast a spell on the pendant when she became ill, and she knew it would be passed on to me. Maybe it’s her way of helping me to never lose sight of who I am. But maybe, she also wanted to prevent anyone else from using it in the wrong way. This pendant is very powerful.”
“So your mother made sure whoever uses it would quickly learn to only use it for good?”
“
I think so.” I touch the stone in my pendant with my fingertips.
Ashwin slips his ring on and makes a fist. “I inherited this from my brother after he died. He received it for his eighteenth birthday. It was never supposed to be mine.”
“And what artefact will you receive for your upcoming birthday?” The question is out before I remember I don’t have an invitation to the ball, and he hasn’t told me about it.
Ashwin regards me for a moment. “You know about my party?”
“Don’t look so surprised. You’re Ashwin Chethan. Everyone in the county knows about it,” I say.
The air grows heavy with anticipation, and the willow tree sighs. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something.
“My new artefact will be a surprise,” he finally says. “The masquerade ball is my parents’ idea. I’m not really into all the ... extravagance.”
“You should tell them that.”
“You obviously haven’t met my parents.” He looks at the ground.
Sadness overwhelms me, because no, I haven’t met his parents. I don’t get to meet a lot of people in general. Whenever someone comes to the house, I get hidden away out of sight. I’m not supposed to go into the village, even for supplies. They get delivered. The only places Lady Roche allows me to go on my own are the cemetery, and my cottage.
I get to my feet and stretch, shaking out the numbness that has crept into my legs from sitting on the ground. I need to touch the tree. Establishing a connection with it always lifts my spirits.
Ashwin doesn’t take his eyes from me as I move towards the weeping branches of the willow, and run my fingers along them. They sway back and forth, rustling softly.
“You really love this tree,” Ashwin says, breaking our silence.
“I planted it the day we buried my mother.” I walk the circumference of the willow canopy, losing sight of Ashwin for a moment as I pass around the trunk. When I come full circle, I say, “I should be getting back. Thank you for your company today, Ashwin.”
He gets to his feet. “Please, call me Ash. I feel we know each other enough now to lose the formalities.”
“Okay then, Ash,” I say. But I still don’t want him to know I’m called Ella. I like that I have someone who will call me by my full name.
He makes a little bow. “When can I see you again?”
He wants to see me again!
“I ... I’m not sure. I can’t always make it to the cemetery.”
“Perhaps I could visit you?”
I twist my fingers together. “I’m quite busy this week. Why don’t we just leave it to fate?”
I don’t want him to find out I’m a servant girl, and there’s no way I could have him come to Roche Manor. My stepsisters would be on him like vultures.
“In that case, are you busy next Saturday, a week from tomorrow?”
My heart pounds, and I don’t know how to answer. Next Saturday is the ball. Is Ash going to ask me to the ball?
“No, but I have a feeling you are,” I say.
“Eleanor, would you like to come to the ball, and help me celebrate my birthday?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, not exactly sure what to say. I can’t say no. That would be rude. But if I say yes, how will I be able to get past my stepsisters? They will surely do something to sabotage my efforts. Perhaps if one of Mother’s old gowns is beautiful enough, they will let me go. If I don’t look like a servant, maybe Lady Roche will allow me this one night.
“I thought it was invitation only,” I finally say.
“Well.” Ash puts his hands in his pockets, and rocks on his heels. “Consider this your invitation. I would like it if the prettiest girl in the county could be there.”
He thinks I’m the prettiest girl in the county!
Warmth creeps into my cheeks, and I stare at my hands, a smile playing at my lips. When I have the courage to look up again, Ash is staring at me with hopeful eyes.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I say. “It would be an honour to attend.”
Chapter four
I’M ON MY KNEES IN the large foyer of Roche Manor, scrubbing the slate floor, when Anna and Drew come barrelling down the stairs. Their voices vie to be heard first, each of them getting louder, and louder.
“My dress will be prettier than yours,” Anna says as she reaches the bottom step.
“I’m going to get the best dress in the county,” Drew fires back.
I sit on my haunches and blow some stray hair from my eyes. It falls across my vision again, so I set the scrubbing brush down, and tuck the lock back into my headscarf. I get to my feet, because my knees ache from kneeling.
“What are you looking at?” Anna snaps.
Lady Roche flounces into the foyer. “You will both look splendid at the ball. As will I. Lord Chethan has asked me to chaperone.”
Wonderful.
The front door opens, and Lady Roche’s driver, Phillip, bows. “The carriage is ready, my lady.” He retreats back outside.
“Come on, girls. We have gowns to purchase.” Lady Roche claps her hands, then turns to face me. “I want this place spick and span by the time we return this afternoon. Not one speck of dirt anywhere. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course.” I nod.
Anna giggles. “Have fun cleaning the hearth. I dropped the jar of coffee beans, and they went everywhere.”
“And the floor in my room,” Drew says. “I may have accidently dropped my tea cup this morning.”
“I want those beans back in the jar. Every last one. And you’d better clean them,” Lady Roche says, before sweeping out the door.
“You might want to fix that, too.” Anna points to my cleaning bucket.
I glance around the spotless foyer. “What do you mean?”
“That.” Anna waves her hand, and the water sloshes out of the bucket all over the floor.
Drew laughs, and my spiteful stepsisters follow Lady Roche out to the carriage. I want to slam the door, but I hold my temper and close it gently, then turn back to the puddle of soapy water I now have to clean up. I sigh, and retrieve the mop from the cleaning cupboard.
Lady Roche and my stepsisters love to shop, so I should have the manor to myself for most of the day, which means I can go up to the attic and look through my mother’s belongings. I mentally list all the chores I need to do first. Going to the attic before I’m done with the house is not an option. If I haven’t finished cleaning before Lady Roche gets home, there will be trouble. She often makes me go without dinner, but when she’s really mad, she casts a spell to stop me from going to the cemetery. I don’t want to risk not being able to see my mother for anything.
I work as quickly as I can, cleaning up the water and finishing the foyer. Then I dust the furniture, and sweep and mop the downstairs rooms, avoiding the kitchen because that’s a whole job in itself. Upstairs, I continue to work, clearing away Drew’s broken tea cup, and scrubbing the tea stains from the floor. I take a brief moment to admire the portrait of Ash that she keeps on her dresser, wishing I could have a picture of him, too. But both my stepsisters would notice if theirs went missing.
In all the bedrooms, I straighten the beds and fluff the pillows, put away clothes, and make sure everything is neat and tidy. Then I give the bathrooms a once over before heading back downstairs to tackle the kitchen.
The place is a mess.
Pots and pans clutter the sink. Food scraps sit on the table and the floor. And Anna has certainly done a good job of scattering the coffee beans from one end of the room to the other. Most of them sit in the ashes of the fireplace, and I wonder how I will ever get them clean.
I sit on a chair at the table, and cry.
I’m never going to have enough time to go up to the attic.
Skittering sounds come from the fireplace, and three mice appear, foraging around in the ashes. One of them picks up a coffee bean, and turns it over in his little front paws.
“What am I going to do?” I ask the mice
. “There’s too much mess.”
The mice scurry over, and climb the leg of my trousers to sit on my knee. The one holding the coffee bean races to my shoulder and pulls back the ratty collar of my top.
“What are you searching for?” I ask. The mouse looks under the fabric again. “I’m not wearing my pendant. You know I don’t like to risk it in the house. And I couldn’t use it anyway.”
The little creature runs down to my hand, this time tugging on my finger, and pressing the coffee bean into my palm.
“You want me to use magic? Well, I haven’t done that for a long time. Lady Roche doesn’t allow me.”
My hand magic has no consequences, but I’m not sure I want to risk using it. What if Lady Roche finds out? What if she really has spelled me? I look around the kitchen at the mess, positive my stepsisters do things like this just so I have more work to do. They use their magic in the house, why can’t I? It will only be a quick wave of my hand, and I really want to get to the attic.
“I suppose I could use magic to tidy up,” I say. “Lady Roche isn’t here. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her ... or me.”
The mice squeak, and scamper back to the floor where they line up in front of the hearth. I stand, and wave my hand in the air towards them. Soft curling tendrils of light come from my fingers and shroud the three mice, turning them a glittering blue. The critters race around the room, retrieving the fallen coffee beans and putting them back in the jar. I sweep my arm in an arc, and magic falls into every nook and cranny of the kitchen, cleaning the surfaces, washing the dishes, and setting everything right.
In minutes, the job is done.
The mice scamper back to the hearth.
“Thank you,” I say. “Now I can go to the attic. I do hope my mother has something in her blanket box I can wear. I still can’t believe Ash has invited me to the ball.”
The mice squeak their approval, and disappear into the dead fireplace.
I waste no more time, heading to the back corner of the manor where there’s a door which leads to the attic. The stairs creak as I climb them to the highest room in the house. It has been a long time since I’ve been up here, and there is a thick layer of dust on everything.